


The Only Words I Know

by fightingfairywoman



Category: Historical RPF, Revolutionary War RPF
Genre: Alexander Hamilton - Freeform, Declarations Of Love, John Laurens - Freeform, Love Letters, M/M, RPF, historical RPF - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightingfairywoman/pseuds/fightingfairywoman
Summary: A private letter to a man excited by the purest motives.From a friend's prompt, as part of an A Softer World challenge:When you touch me, my mind is gone. The only words I know are lost inside your body.(right in there)





	The Only Words I Know

I shall not send this letter, my Dear, and will likely destroy it once it is complete. My Psyche is filled always with a flood of words, no matter the circumstance; I release these words to the page in the manner of a sailor bailing out a sinking ship, with excess spilling over into speech; and you have met me with your deft replies in such a way that you bypass my mind and move into my heart, which is now with you always, unconcerned with my desire to remain unattached.

There is now a fascination, an unexpected partiality; a new language of emotions I have not found elsewhere. My Dear, I suspect you have awakened in me a weakness that I had so far avoided, and while I curse myself for falling prey to such affections I cannot hold any grudge. How can I rebuke you when I have found, through you, that love is not a weakness but a strength? I cannot; nor can I regret allowing you to steal your way into my confidence. What I will rebuke is your silence; now that you have asked me to speak, you no longer answer—I am becoming Echo, longing for words that do not come. I wish we could quit this form of speech—indeed all writing—and find new means of true Communication; and I admit, I think it possible; for in my knowledge of you, I find words to be of little import.

This is what I cannot say to you, for fear of incriminating the both of us. I find that with your touch, words leave me, but this rare peace of mind is soon overcome by the heat of passion. Afterwards I feel I should have a wound upon my pride for yielding so completely to such passions, yet no such wound occurs—instead a further pride of unfamiliar nature. I do not think this a rational sensibility and would attempt firmly to destroy it if not for the continued pleasure of indulgence afforded by our connexions.

Can you be certain that there is no harm done between us by our relations? I would like to say that there is none, but I tarry in doing so due to the way you drain the words from me, a dangerous power which gives you more Jurisdiction over me than you seem to know. My Articulation of my thoughts has been my only reliable weapon against this world’s obstacles; without my words I would not be here to know of you at all; I would perhaps not even be here still on Earth, having succumbed to the early deaths common in my former home—not from battle, but from illness and poverty, disaster and starvation. You have the dangerous ability to drain this capacity for words from me, but it is one I still cannot begrudge you, as it is me who willingly yields to you nonetheless. You know well that I care not for this world, and so it should not concern me that I am so disarmed, as I have wished so often to complete my time here; but unfortunately I am now concerned, as I cannot bear to think of leaving you behind. Thus I both happily and fearfully anticipate the thought of seeing you again; you weaken me, and create in me such conflict between heart and mind that I can confess it only to myself, despite my love for you and trust in your confidence.

Wishing to see myself as a man of more courage than this letter demonstrates, I regret that I can write of this matter only in the knowledge that this paper shall be burnt before the end of this day. I wonder if perhaps I could be more resolute in declaring my Sentiments if we had met in another place or another time, where fear and duty would not restrict us so much. But we have been dealt our lots in life, and must accept them; I must work within the boundaries of my duty to Society; and while this letter’s flight of fancy will last only until it is reduced to ash, I still remain

Yrs for ever

A. Hamilton

**Author's Note:**

> This had no beta, just a tiny amount of tumblr approval. I'm uploading it because I feel that it deserves to be somewhere other than my rarely-frequented blog.


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